Ashes
by Kount Xero
Summary: Two years after the events of "The Few Remaining Strands," an ordinary day in Ocean Garden turns into a struggle for survival after a missile attack cripples the structure. Stranded and helpless, there is nothing left for the survivors but to try and find their way as their home crumbles around them. (Part 4/7) of a series.
1. Prologue (Whispers)

"_**Ashes"**_

_Author's Note: "Ashes" is the fourth installment of a series, dubbed here as the "Preludes" to the Third Sorceress War. The reading order goes: Estranged, Cold Metal, The Few Remaining Strands and now, Ashes. (Information about this series of fics is also available on my profile.) The contents of this story is counted as the first act of war._

**Prologue  
****(Whispers.)**

Whispers in the dark.

"Selphie..?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever think about your parents?"

"My birth parents? No. Heh..."

"What?"

"Zell. He used to call them births."

"Births? Just births?"

"It was this big discussion one day, you weren't there. Irvine found Zell and me collecting those stones we thought were shells on the beach. He just came and struck up a discussion about our birth parents. Why they might have left us, why they might not have wanted us."

"And?"

"Zell, trying to come up with a clever curse but too polite to actually swear, just went, _they're birth parents! That's all they are! They are births! They're births, that's what they are!"_

"That's just like him."

"What can I say, he was a barrel of laughs then, too."

"The strangest thing... but that doesn't answer my question."

"Sometimes. Just sometimes. And that's just it. Just sometimes, it almost feels like I'm on that beach, waiting for Zell to show up so I don't have to cry about why my parents never wanted me."

"Selphie..."

"I miss him, Squall."

"Two years isn't enough to forget."

"It's enough to move on. Isn't that what we've done..? Moved on?"

"...doesn't mean we should have devoted our entire lives to his death."

"I feel guilty."

"About what?"

"I feel guilty that I enjoy things that he would, things that we used to enjoy together. I feel guilty for doing them without him."

"Knowing Zell, I think he would have hated the idea of you abandoning those things."

"I don't think we can know that."

"It was just an inference."

"It's just... it hurts. Two years gone, and it still hurts like it hurt the first day, the first week..."

"Let it."

"What?"

"Let it hurt. I'm here."

"Shouldn't you be here to spare me the pain?"

"No. I'm here to share it."

A kiss, in the dark, and soft words follow.


	2. Day

"_**Ashes"**_

**1. Day**

**1**

Squall settled into his chair, coffee mug in hand, and leaned back. He activated the screen he had had installed onto the wall, and went over the sixteen channels that were available until he found the GNN. The first frame was a podium, atop which Rinoa, now in her black pinstripe suit, was standing, microphone stands crowding the space in front of her. Behind her, also wearing a suit, but retaining his cowboy hat, was Irvine.

Squall couldn't deny that Irvine being declared her official Knight hadn't hurt, despite everything.

"_...and I assure you that further changes will come to pass, hopefully all for the better. Two years is a very short time, and four years is barely enough for any one person to make a change, but I do not think I have given anyone a reason to doubt my commitment to reform. With that said, I can answer some questions."_

Squall saw the date and time at the upper right corner of the screen and remembered a phone call, two years ago.

**2**

"Hello?"

"_Ms. President. Congratulations."_

"Why, thank you, General, you are too kind."

"_I see that you've picked up some rhetoric."_

"It's how I am supposed to talk."

"_I guess... how does it feel?"_

"Right now? It feels like I ought to make a law. It should be every little girl's dream to surpass their father's ambitions."

"_This is actually an official call as well, however. Congratulations are, again, in order, sure, but besides that, I have something to tell you."_

"Go ahead."

"_Ocean Garden will not support you, nor will we lend SeeD to any governmental effort."_

"I thought SeeD was for hire."

"_Ocean Garden is a neutral organization, Rinoa, and I will not politicize the sum of my efforts here just because you feel like you need more knights in your games."_

"To be neutral, you should also refuse to supply any anti-governmental factions with SeeD."

"_I will supply SeeD to any non-governmental, unaffiliated party that pays the price. This is the same policy that applies to Esthar and to the semi-autonomous Dollet Dukedom. This is the same policy that was in place when we first came to Timber. I will not change it, I will not bend it, I will not move a single comma in the said clause. This isn't a threat, nor is it saber-rattling on my part. I'm just telling you how it's going to be."_

"Thanks, but Dollet Dukedom itself requested help in that incident, so that policy-"

"_Dollet Dukedom asked it to defend itself against a hostile invader, which was your father's government. That's well within the neutrality clause."_

"Play it as you like. I understand what you're trying to say, and I don't blame you for it. But if such a time should come-"

"_Different circumstances, Rin. Different measures."_

"One last thing, then... what about Galbadian SeeD candidates?"

"_What about them?"_

"Galbadia Garden is already a governmental organization."

"_As such, I am only admitting Galbadian candidates that have no political affiliations whatsoever. Even those who fit the bill will have their backgrounds double-checked and will have to go through psych-testing. Anyone else is not going to be admitted."_

"That's your bottom line?"

"_My bottom line is, Rin, I don't trust you."_

_Brief silence on the other end._

"I understand."

"_So, congratulations again, Ms. President."_

_Squall hung up and that was the last time they spoke._

**3**

Squall took a sip of his coffee and then changed the channel. He happened upon a documentary about the Trabia Garden help efforts. The place had been renovated and had been open for about a year now, accepting Estharian students and the odd Galbadian. Squall knew that about half of their own total cadet recruits came from Trabia, that the new Galbadian admissions policy had put paid to that, thus he watched with some interest.

He remembered his lunch appointment with Selphie. She had also suggested that if they could squeeze it in, she did feel very much like a quickie today. Squall half-smiled. With not-so-quiet nights in following the not-so-quiet nights out, he wasn't sure if they were limitless or not.

The screen showed the headstones in the Trabian graveyard, the entrance of which was made entirely from pieces taken from the missiles that hadn't detonated.

**4**

"_They all stare." Selphie said as she worked her way through her sandwich, "I can feel them looking at me."_

"_Who's looking at you?"_

"_The Trabians. They give me these glances as they pass me by... like they're saying something."_

"_Saying what?"_

"_That I failed. That they'll succeed there. That they'll be better than me. They won't let their friends down, they won't sell their souls to SeeD..."_

"_You didn't sell your soul to SeeD."_

"_You don't understand."_

_Selphie took the split second shift in Squall's expression to hastily launch into an explanation._

"_It's not your fault. You just can't. You've always been in Balamb Garden. Your natural path was always to be a SeeD. It's not the same with other Gardens. In Trabia, you either go on to become a SeeD after completing equivalent classes, or you move onto being an instructor, and work to help others achieve the goal you either gave up or couldn't measure up to."_

"_How could they be better?" Squall took her hand into his, "You are a Veteran. They didn't fight the war. They don't know anything."_

_Squall felt her hand tense up._

"_What?"_

"_Just like Zell... you're saying what he said..."_

"_No. He meant nobody. I mean your Trabians, specifically. They weren't there when we went toe-to-toe with Matron. They didn't see us fail, they didn't see us thrown into the D-District Prison. They didn't watch us force our way through the entire damn structure to escape. They don't understand that it could have been Balamb Garden that was hit first, if not for Matron's lingering affection for the place. They don't, or they don't want to."_

"_Squall, I..."_

"_You couldn'tve done better. Selphie, I wish that Trabia hadn't been the one to pay the price. But that doesn't give anyone any right to judge you."_

_A little tear, running down her cheek gave him the impression that he had either said the absolutely right or the absolutely wrong thing. There was only one way to be sure._

"_So, what do you say?"_

"_I think I say, I love you."_

"_I think I say it back."_

**5**

Squall breezed through the rest of his pre-lunch work, mostly micromanagement slates requiring his approval for this, that, or the other, and the odd petition from cadets who wanted smoking in their dorm rooms allowed. That particular one, he set aside.

Repeating to himself for Hyne knew which time that he desperately needed a secretary, he checked his schedule, and instantly decided he couldn't be bothered with it right this second. Instead, he focused on dividing the tasks he needed to perform by the time he had for lunch. It was the same thing, of course, but felt less oppressive.

In moments like these, Squall wondered if this was what Cid had preferred to spend his time doing. Of course, Cid had never been a soldier, had never been a SeeD, and being an instrument of violence had never been drilled into him. Squall, despite the peace he had found in governing his home, sometimes longed for something a bit more hands-on. But he instead did his duty, sat there and went over the many infinitestimal details that went into the day-to-day functioning of Ocean Garden. The clock slowly drained the minutes and the minutes took the hours, until, mercifully, the time of day reached high noon. With far more relief than he knew was appropriate, Squall pushed his chair away from his desk, got his jacket and walked out of his office. The brief walk to the elevator had never been so short. He got in and went down.

He got out of the elevator and onto the hustle and bustle of ground level main. Selphie had said that she'd wait in the Cafeteria. Their usual table. Squall smiled.

He was enjoying himself so much that he didn't hear the hissing above, and when he finally heard it, he knew what it was, but it was already too late.


	3. Assault

"_**Ashes"**_

**2. Assault**

The assault lasted just under a minute.

The missiles flew in a straight path until reaching their target. They changed course then and drew a graceful arc higher into the sky above Ocean Garden, before raining down onto the unsuspecting victims below. Panels on some of the missiles' sides blew open and scattered mini-bombs to shower its targets with. Others changed course at the last second and went horizontally in every direction, scattering to find new targets, to get deeper into corridors if they could.

The first explosion, that in the Garden's comm-tower, was drowned out by the series of high-impact sounds that immediately followed, a moment Squall would later remember as everything being over long before anybody had a chance to realize what was happening. Flying debris caught cadets and SeeDs alike off-guard – the explosion scattered not only the pieces of their landing point, but of themselves in the form of hot shrapnel that lacerated whoever they caught. The higher levels were blown to hell, and the Garden's occupants found little shelter in their rather enclosed space as hard, sharp pieces of plastiglass rained down on them, killing whoever couldn't avoid one of the many shards.

Pieces of the garden's structure, chunks of reinforced concrete followed the glass and dove down to the ground level, crushing many who never saw them coming.

In the ensuing chaos, some, cradling the corpses of their loved ones, were trampled in the stampeding mass of absolutely terrified cadets and SeeDs; they were kicked aside and bruised by their urgent steps. As they huddled into corners that they prayed to Hyne were safe, holding pieces left of those they had held dear (and looking at the wounds disfiguring their flesh,) they cried and screamed, but nobody heard them in the crescendo of human noise.

One of the missiles actually managed to go into a corridor and went deeper and deeper until exploding right at its entrance. As the wing blew up, the nurses, Dr. Kodowaki herself and the attending staff died in a fiery inferno of raining shrapnel and super-heated air.

A missile ended square at the entrance of the Cafeteria, and the force of the explosion threw Squall off his feet while simultaneously showering the Cafeteria with debris. He collided with the glass railing connecting the bridge section to the center of ground level main and crashed right through it, carrying shards with him into the small pond of water between walkways. The water enveloped him and his limbs, now loose and free, let him sink.

His perception almost came to a standstill, and the moment it slowed down, everything seemed to stop. In that split-second halt, floating free, Squall could think one thought.

_What the hell's happening..?_

Squall turned, his perception slowly picking up the slack, and kicked the ground. His head rose up and he breathed. He expected to hear the sounds above the water.

There was a ringing in his ear, a white-noise constant stretching into eternity and there was no other sound.


	4. Silence

"_**Ashes"**_

**3. Silence**

Squall grabbed hold of the edge of the walkway and pulled himself up. His left hand ground into glass and he clenched his teeth as he pulled his knees up. Once he was on the ground, he rose to his feet. His knees buckled and he fell to his side, felt the cold stone smash against his shoulder. He steadied himself and first got onto his knees, and then stood up again. He balanced himself on an opening stance.

Standing brought his body to a halt. He didn't move, had no will to. His mind was a garbled mess of thoughts rapid-firing and tangling up in an incoherent, screaming knot. Everything seemed to be at a distance, at a pace that was quite different than his own. He couldn't comprehend, he couldn't understand.

He couldn't hear anything. There was only the silence.

His eyes were seeing, but the images he caught didn't align, didn't add up to anything. Holes where there should be walls, cracks across once-smooth surfaces. Cracks and blank spots across the rising walls. The wreck left of the directory. Damage across the exterior of the elevator shaft. The walkway to the Training Center, completely destroyed – pieces of it, floating in the shallower ponds broken into the middle.

Rubble covering the area. Broken benches. Shards of glass. Cadets and SeeDs everywhere, in full uniform, mouths moving, shaping words he couldn't hear. Bodies on the ground, sprawled across the broken landscape, with the lucky ones lying on the laps or in the arms of those that loved them. The unlucky ones, alone, either lying dead or unconscious, or holding their wounds in a corner they had crawled to.

Around him, Ocean Garden was broken.

Something warm was running down his face. Squall touched it, and immediately winced at the stabbing pain. Blood on his fingers. A cut on his forehead, deep, but not deep enough that it required immediate attention. He took a moment to dig shards of glass from his palm, and hoped that he could hear something soon.

The brief interlude of pain brought him back. He felt as if a full-body bind had just been released. One thought came through loud and clear: he needed to move. So he did - he took a shaky step forward. Walking seemed too difficult a concept, so instead, he focused on getting one foot in front of the other. Repeat. Repeat.

Squall spotted a SeeD nearby, a girl, hugging her knees and staring off into the distance with dead, unfocused eyes looking through strands of her red hair. He shifted his direction towards her, steadied himself and started to wobble his way along. When he got to her side, he crouched, too afraid to go down on one knee. With gentle fingers, he untied her tie and pulled it off of her neck. She didn't react. He tied it around his hand, secured the knot. He reached and tapped the girl on her shoulder.

The reaction was anything but what he expected. The girl threw a wild punch that connected with his cheek, and continuing to throw kicks and punches, backed away from him. Squall tried to shake the impact off, and that was when the girl snapped to. Her eyes grew wide and she scrambled towards him, mouthing the word, far as he could see, "sorry" constantly. Squall pointed at his ear, and then, knowing that he could still speak, told her that he couldn't hear anything.

He stood once more, this time sturdier, and the girl stood with him. Squall asked her to spell out her name. B-R-E-A. Congratulations, he told her, you are my new aide. Help me. We have to go around the ring, see what happened.

Squall took Brea's arm and dragged her along. Something in him had shut down and all that was left was his training, which told him to do a damage assessment. The damage far as he could see through their walk around the ring, was the same, as if one section had been attacked, and the result had been copied and pasted onto the other sections.

The Infirmary, he saw, was completely blocked off – the entrance had collapsed. The dormitories were fine, and he made note to use it as a makeshift infirmary if they had the means to care for the wounded.

The entrance of the Cafeteria had been replaced with a block of fractured stone.

A thought eroded all others. Selphie.

For a moment, Squall was beset on all sides by the worst of his thoughts. Visions of Selphie, always dead and dead by different means, flashed through his mind, filling him with fear.

_Snap out of it._

Squall pushed the thought away, retreated into the SeeD and continued to walk with Brea's help.

When he and Brea returned to their starting position, he outlined a plan of action. It was simple.

The ringing in his ear was starting to lessen. Not enough to hear, but not so oppressive now.

He told Brea to see if she could find two categories of people: unwounded or functional cadets and SeeD, and field medics. Brea nodded and hurried away. Squall didn't have to wait long, she soon returned with a group of cadets and SeeDs in tow. By then, his hearing was still recovering. She saluted him and told him:

"These are the field medics."

He could hear her as if she was very distant, but he could hear. That was good. There were five field medics in total. Not a lot to go on, but leagues above nothing.

"Senior level?"

One of them, a cadet, rose his hand.

"You're the field commander of Squad A. Also, you've just made SeeD. Your job is to take care of the wounded in ground level main." Squall said, "Junior level?"

Two.

"One of you is with him, the other one will be in Squad B. Finally, sophomore?"

Two.

"One of you will go with him, the other will be in Squad B. Now, Brea, the others?"

Squall counted sixteen in total, four SeeDs, twelve cadets.

"Eight of you," Squall said, "Are in Squad C. Your job is to clear a way to the Infirmary, we need the supplies there. The other eight is designated Squad D, who will clear a way into the Cafeteria. Squad B is with Squad D. Does everybody understand their assignments?"

Nods all around.

"Good. Go."

The soldiers scrambled, leaving Brea and Squall.

"And us, sir?" Brea asked.

"You're coming with me. We're going to the communications center."

"Do you think it's still intact, sir?"

"One way to find out. You coming?"

"Yes sir!"

Brea followed Squall into the main elevator shaft. They pried the doors open together, and Squall, upon seeing the elevator was on the ground level, muttered a prayer of gratitude to Hyne. They entered the elevator. Squall pressed the button for the navigation level. Nothing happened. He tapped on the button a few times. Nothing.

"Power loss..." he said, "We'll go through the shaft, then. Come on, Brea, you're up."

Squall lifted Brea up and she opened the hatch. She crawled up. Squall unzipped his jacket for more freedom of movement, and jumped to grab the hatch, and pulled himself up. They both looked up. The shaft, going up to the administrative level, had a detour, about three levels down from that, which led to the communications center. There was a ladder, embedded into the wall and on the side of the elevator doors. Squall started first. He had gotten up a few steps when he noticed that Brea wasn't following.

"Brea?"

"Y-yes, sir?"

"Are you coming?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

"Something the matter?"

"I..."

"Out with it!" Squall snapped.

"I don't like heights, sir."

"You're a SeeD. Get over it."

Brea latched onto the bars and pulled herself up. Squall wiped the blood off of his face. Damn thing was bleeding into his eye.

He could feel a headache starting to claw up to the top of his skull.

They ascended quietly. Brea spent the better portion of the climb reminding herself that she wouldn't think twice if the ladder was ten steps up, so she shouldn't think twice now. There wasn't this invisible variable that got added the higher it got, the mechanics were the same. Of course, the mechanics of falling remained the same also but oh stop it.

She clenched her teeth and followed the General.

The ladder shifted diagonally, with the bars remaining horizontal but moving sideways, when they got to the door. Squall shifted through them with ease. It took his annoyed shouting to get Brea to do the same. She hesitantly moved through the sections, ensuring that she had at least three limbs secured to bars before moving her body at all. Squall took the time to ascend to the doors' level and maneuver himself onto the narrow, but acceptably wide ledge in front of the doors. Brea followed suit.

"Now," Squall said, wiping the blood off of his forehead, there was less of it now, "We need to get these open."

"Sir, you're bleeding..."

"I'll live. What's your specialty?"

"Sir?"

"Your specialty, what are you?"

Squall observed the door. Heavy doors, adamantine-alloy, their mechanical systems tied to circuits on the elevator doors. They couldn't pry the doors open, not really – the ledge wasn't wide enough for them to gain a foothold, and the doors had nothing to grab onto.

Squall knew that the elevator doors actually clicked a circuit complete when they slid into place, which tied into receptor circuits on the sides of level-doors. The door frames held the wiring necessary for two circuits to become one through the act of one becoming active. Squall decided that the only way to do so was to turn the doors' own circuitry against itself. Loop the current. Which would of course only work if they still had power, and Squall didn't want to consider a scenario where they didn't.

"Answer me, Brea. Swordfighter, field mage, what?"

"Sharpshooter, sir."

"Glad to see that a sharpshooter will be guarding my back day in and day out."

"Your back, sir?"

"You're my aide. You're doing a fine job so far. If you keep at it, your position will be permanent... when we see this through."

"Yes, sir."

"So, do me a favor, there's a maintenance hatch surrounding the door frame. Do you see it?"

Brea turned and inched her way to the edge. She reached out and felt her way around. The frame itself was metal, but there was a thin, almost unnoticeable line where metal ended and masonry began.

"I think I found it."

"It opens outward, so find the lock and open it."

Brea felt around and came across a thick knob with an elevated center. Small, but there. She flipped it and heard the lock disengage with a thin clack. She opened the hatch.

"Good," Squall said as he pulled a mess of cables outward. Thank Hyne for every cable having a small tag to say what it does, "Reach in, you'll touch a bunch of cables. Pull them out, all of them."

Blue for positive, red for negative charges. Got it.

Fuck, his head was aching.

"Got them, sir."

"Get the blue and red ones. Strip the plastic covering."

Brea, taking great care to bite as shallowly as possible, bit into the plastic, just enough to make a dent. Then she peeled the covering back and exposed the wires.

Squall did the same. He instructed Brea to hold out red with her left hand, and blue with her right. He brought the cables around, only with hands reversed. They wires touched and electricity crackled. With a heavy hiss, the elevator doors behind them opened and they took a few steps in to be safe. Brea took a deep breath. Squall grinned.

The communications center was just down the hall. They saw that one of the doors was open, and it was slowly moving towards the middle of the threshold to close, stopping, and then opening again. Something on the ground, something round was shifting a bit every time the door hit it and stopped.

When they got close, Squall felt nausea join the headache. He was tired. He hadn't done anything, and he was tired.

Brea, by his side, gasped and Squall could barely catch her before her knees buckled. He steadied her, gave her the usual assurances, it's okay, it's fine, it'll be alright, and didn't believe one word of it – not with a severed head keeping the door open, not with a severed head with a piece of shrapnel where it's right eye should be.

Squall stepped over the head and Brea followed.

The communications center had been destroyed. The monitors lining both walls had been smashed by pieces of sharp metal – the switchboards were a mess of collapsed frames and dangling cables. The records compiler by the smashed window was just a short stack of tapes, paper and wires, and the rest was a pile of corpses, dead where they had been sitting, bodies mangled with the impact, supporting pieces of metal and glass.

Where there once was an endless array of sounds and words was only silence.

"Fuck!" Squall could feel the nausea asserting itself, little by little, "No contact with anyone. Fuck..." he ran a hand through his hair, "Ffuck..." he cracked up. Before the eyes of a very distressed Brea, he started to laugh, until he choked on it. "Hyne... Motherfucker's good."

"G...general..."

Squall wasn't sure if he had imagined it, but then, another sound, accompanied by the distinctive hiss of radio static accompanied it.

"_Xu? Is everything alright down there?"_

Squall leapt towards the window and found Xu in a corner between the record compiler's remains and one of the consoles. She held a portable transceiver in one hand, and with the other, gently pressed against a piece of jagged metal in between her ribs.

A red line crossed her left eye.

"I... passed out for a minute there... hey there, General..."

"Xu, what the..." Squall got down to one knee, "Can you move?"

"N-no... not in this condition."

"_What the hell's going on down there?"_

Squall took the transciever's speaking piece.

"Nida? Is that you?"

"_General?"_

"Yeah... it's me."

"_Thank fuck... General, you need to come up here. We have a problem, we have a massive fucking problem."_

"What is it?"

"_I can't tell you. Have to see for yourself."_

"Anybody else up there with you? The co-pilot, what's his name..."

"_Jan? He's dead."_

"Fuck... okay. I'm coming up. General Leonhart out."

"_My regards, sir."_

Squall returned the piece to Xu.

"It's gonna be alright." He told her, "We're gonna get help."

"I'm good to... wait."

Squall was sure that he would throw up any second.

"This is Brea. Brea, meet Lieutenant General Xu."

"Pleasure, sir." Brea said.

"New assignment, soldier." Squall said to Brea, "Go down to ground level main, take one of the junior level medics and get him up here. Go. Now."

"Yes, sir!"

Brea saluted them and ran out, only happy to leave the small mass coffin.

"What's... going on... Squall?"

"I don't know." Squall said, rubbing his temples, "But they're good, Xu. They're very fucking good."

"Formidable..."

"That's the word. Formidable."

Silence.

"I need to go." He said.

"Go."

"Will you be alright?"

"I'll... hold out."

Squall left the communications center wondering if he had made the right choice, but his churning stomach and dry mouth put paid to any thought deeper than where he needed to go and that they had a massive fucking problem.

He wondered if they had reached the cafeteria yet.


	5. Safety

"_**Ashes"**_

**4. Safety**

Her consciousness came in waves, each one more sophisticated than the last, but ultimately, her waking thoughts were simple. Object, connotation. Stone, cold. Dust, choking. Sounds, too many. Hands, shaking. On her shoulder, insistent.

"Selphie... hey!"

Voice, familiar. Very familiar.

"Hey, little messenger girl, wake up! Don't leave me hanging!"

Recognition, friend and foe.

"Come on!"

Seifer, cunt.

"Hey, there you go, c'mon, hey, look at me."

Hands on her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. His face, concerned, his eyes, observant. He was shaking her head, gently, trying to see if she responded to his presence.

"You see me?"

"Stop shaking me, you're making me nauseous."

"Oh... sorry."

The hands retreated. Her head was a Bite Bugs' nest, insect wings filling it with shrieking in circulation. The pounding on her temples told her that she had hit her head. The absence of worry on Seifer's part told her that she either had no visible injuries around that area, or that she was utterly fucked.

Selphie tried to take in the scene, her mind still reeling from the rude awakening. Most of the tables had been upturned, the chairs laid scattered on the ground in between them. There were a few cadets and SeeDs simply sitting at their tables, plates full but forgotten, staring off into nothing. Selphie tried to remember. Digging into her memory replayed her last thought, that Squall was late again. Then... nothing. Just Seifer stirring her awake. And there he still was, crouched next to her, in his cadet uniform, looking at her with a concerned expression.

"What happened?" Selphie asked as she pinched the bridge of her nose as hard as she could, "What the fuck happened?"

"Something blew up the entrance." Seifer said, "The cadets in the back say it was a missile."

Selphie felt a cold chill run down her spine.

"A missile blowing up the entrance would kill half of us. Dumbasses." Selphie said, and looking on, she saw a bunch of Trabians. _Figures._

"Yeah."

"Nobody's dead... or, if I'm seeing this right, hurt." She touched her forehead, it stung, but there was no blood.

"So maybe, whatever it was, it went above the entrance, hell, I don't fucking know. All I know is that we're trapped there. But we're safe, at least for the time being."

Selphie tried to see through the pain, and what she saw was that the face she had come to hate so much seemed concerned for her, and attuned to the environment around it. She was surprised, but ultimately, this wasn't the time to dwell on the finer qualities of Seifer Almasy.

"So what got me?" Selphie asked.

"A fist-sized chunk of the wall. You were out for maybe a minute."

"Help me up."

Seifer took hold of Selphie's arm, and supported her weight as she stood up. She stood there, wobbling, her head spinning, but Seifer's support kept her from falling. She surveyed the scene once more, for details she might have missed. Nothing too important – the dessert stand now cradled a mess of pies that had glass shards in them, a few lights had gone out, but nothing too major. Nobody seemed to be hurt.

"Anyone hurt?" she croaked. She cleared her throat and repeated the question, just to be sure. No answer came. Good.

"Nobody. We even have food, so we can last a while."

"A while? Seifer, I'm not..." sudden dizzy spell cut her short as she concentrated on remaining on her two feet, "I'm not staying here if I can help it."

"Well, you're the badass, veteran field mage, any solutions there?"

"Let's see the exit first."

The entrance to the cafeteria was a cave-in, cutting abruptly five steps in and ending with a wall of masonry. Four cadets and a SeeD were trying to navigate through the pile, separate what could safely be removed and put aside and what was tied to a whole array of different pieces. Selphie pulled herself free of Seifer's arm and stumbled forward.

Five steps. A particularly boring day had led her once to measure how many steps it was from the entrance to the cafeteria itself, and the number was ten. Halfway buried. Selphie looked to the upper corners of the entrance, and saw small gaps, gaps that had nothing whatsoever to do with the clutter underneath them. The ceiling, far as she could see, wasn't going to come down if they shifted one wedge too many.

"There's a whole lot of shit between here and there." She said, "Hm. Seifer?"

"Yeah?"

"Are there any donuts left?"

"Donuts?"

"I'm hungry. Get me some donuts, will ya?"

"Do I have to salute you, too?"

"If it'll make you feel better."

Seifer went back into the cafeteria. Selphie found the five diggers looking at her with their eyebrows raised. She shrugged it off and got closer to them.

"Any of you a mage?"

"No." the SeeD said, "We're an... impromptu squad. I'm the leader."

"Good. Any of you armed?"

One of the cadets pulled out a handgun.

"Too small." Selphie said, almost allowing a smile, "We need something bigger."

"LG?" another cadet said.

"Yeah?"

"Aren't _you_ a field mage?"

"I'm thinking about what would break through this. LVL4 Thundaga, maybe."

"Not to brag," Seifer said, passing her a whole box of donuts, "But I think I can melt some of this down."

"Your expertise was fire, right?" Selphie asked.

"Yeah. LVL4, last I checked. Ought to do the job. The hotter they are, the easier they will break. How about we do this together?"

"Youb bfull ob good stubf tofday."

"Didn't Matron ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?"

Selphie grinned through a mouthful.

Selphie and Seifer cleared out the impromptu squad, and Selphie decided to stop after four donuts. A sugar rush wasn't what she needed. LVL4 spells took concentration and energy, neither of which she had enough to spare.

They stood a step or two into the cafeteria.

"Aim low." Selphie said, "Y'know, just in case anybody's trying to get in here to save us. Don't wanna kill them."

"You're awfully cheery about this... as usual."

"Would you rather I moped about it? That's Squall's job."

"I'm sure his performance is outstanding."

Selphie chuckled.

Seifer grew silent. He outstretched his hand and slowly began to form the spell. The air around his hand hissed as it heated up, and soon, bright lights, too bright to look into directly, started to dance around his fingers. Selphie covered her face and waited for him to release the energy, and with a habitual whisper, Seifer cast. Selphie didn't see or hear the LVL4 Firaga, she simply felt the walls and the pile grow hotter and hotter until the radiating heat could be felt from where they were standing.

"Your turn," he breathed, and she saw beads of sweat running down his face. He wobbled a few steps back, and then slumped to the ground, taking a moment.

"Why are you still a cadet?" Selphie asked, "Honestly?"

"Too many classes to go through." Seifer said, panting, "I was just finishing them this term."

Selphie concentrated. She clenched her fist and started to focus the energies of this particularly volatile piece of para-magic. The air around her started cackling, with random sparks igniting and dissipating around the central point, and she felt a tingling sensation start to build up in her clenched fist. She couldn't even rejoice in the fact that it was working, because her legs were starting to feel the pressure of keeping her body up.

Without a second more, Selphie turned her fist towards the entrance and opened her fingers. The fizzling crack of lightning filled the air and bolts, blindingly bright, shot ahead and tore apart the stones. The lightshow then ended and took with it almost all of her strength. She got down on one knee, and from the reaction of the cadets and SeeDs suddenly rushing towards the exit, she could tell that they had cleared the way. Selphie couldn't believe it – five minutes ago, half of them couldn't be arsed, and now, they were flocking to the open entrance.

Seifer stood up and came to offer Selphie a hand. Selphie took it, and they shuffled along to the exit.

Selphie took all but three steps out of the entrance before stopping. All around her, she saw Ocean Garden, the place she had come to call home, the home that had welcomed her after her own had refused her, twisted and distorted into a post-apocalyptic scene, complete with too little number of medics rushing to the aid of the injured students. There was a groaning underneath the human noise, there was a deep groaning, as if the Garden itself was moaning in agony.

It was as if somebody had taken the mental image of her home and traumatized it into becoming _this._

She felt Seifer's hand on her shoulder, squeezing, as if to reassure. A familiar gesture, which reminded her of Squall in a blinding flash. Panic easily clawed its way up to her throat and started to choke her. Where was Squall? Was he alive? What if he was bleeding out in a corner somewhere? What if he was already dead? What if-

"General Leonhart sent me, are you a junior level?"

Selphie snapped to at the mention of her buzzword. She saw a SeeD, a red-haired girl, who was standing right next to a cadet. Selphie rushed to her side, grabbed her by the arms and turned her.

"You." She said, "Who are you? What's your name?"

"B-Brea, sir, Brea Willings..." the girl appeared to be startled by the sudden onslaught of Selphie's attention.

"You said General Leonhart sent you. Is he alive?"

"Y-yes, sir... sir, my arm..."

"Oh. Sorry."

Selphie released her grip.

"Sorry." She repeated.

"It's just a bruise, I think." Brea said, "My apologies, sir."

"General Leonhart..."

"Appointed me his aide, sir. Lieutenant General Xu is in the communications center, she's badly wounded. He sent me to find a medic for her while he went to the navigation room, sir."

"I am," the cadet said, "A junior level field medic."

"Then you'll follow me." Brea said. She lingered. When Selphie didn't get it, she urged, gently, "Coming, sir?"

Selphie snapped out of it.

"Go ahead, I'll meet you at the elevator."

"Understood, sir."

"She's lively." Seifer commented.

"His aide..."

"What are you still standing around for?" Seifer said, "Go. Quistis was supposed to be in the Infirmary before meeting me at the cafeteria, I'll go see if she's okay."

"You seem... calm."

"Would you rather I panicked?"

Selphie smiled and ran to the elevator.


	6. Wreckage

"_**Ashes"**_

**5. Wreckage**

Quistis feels her forehead slide against the stone and leave a wet, slick trail behind. It's all she can do to cling on. She's aware that tears are streaming down her cheeks, and that her lower lip is trembling. She wants to scream, she wants to let it all out, but all she can manage is a whimper and a sob. Her body seems to be made of pain, every nerve ending randomly firing impulses to her brain, drilling into her skull with every move. She grasps the right arm of her jacket, the cloth smoothly crushed into her palm, and is immediately met with a searing pain.

Her right arm's both broken in several places and dislocated. It's bent into a shape that it shouldn't be able to.

She tries to look around, to find something to look at, something else besides the hurt, and she sees her left leg. There's something white coming out of its side, something pale... something solid... something like... no. No... it can't be. With trembling fingers she touches it, blinding pain, sharp like a knife immediately responds.

Great Hyne, it _is_... it's bone.

Quistis bites her lower lip and tries to move her leg. It's possible, and less painful than anything else, and she does it. Every time she winces, a hundred little spots on her right cheek remind her of the shards of glass embedded in there. She can still feel the heat from a piece of metal that just barely grazed her eye.

Another piece of metal is still embedded into her thigh. She can't maneuver herself enough to get it out, but it's there, a thin strip of constant discomfort and pricking pain.

The smell of burnt flesh is fresh in her nostrils. It makes her head swim as she tries to simply be in the corner, simply to lie there. The smell makes her eyes involuntarily move to her right hand. Charred black, closed fist, full of agony.

She remembers lifting her hand up to shield herself from the flames. She remembers finishing the word, _Protect,_ as her outstretched hand burned to a crisp and her body broke with the force of the impact...

And then... just the wreckage.

She doesn't have words to speak, she doesn't have prayers to voice. She just has the silence, and the wreckage that is around her.

On the wall, the charred SeeD Cross still stands, defiant.

Quistis might laugh if she remembered how it was done. There she is, in a place of healing, broken beyond what she believed would be possible, and lucky... Holy Hyne is she the lucky one... at least she can still draw breath.

Quistis remembers a pleasant chat with Dr. Kodowaki about the new recruits, already a distant memory. She had opened the balcony window to smoke. When the cigarette was done, she had tossed it out to the sea, closed the sliding balcony door and then...

The next thing she knew, she was on the corner. Her legs were curled out to the balcony. There was nothing but blackness, the agony, and the sounds of the Infirmary crumbling to fucking pieces. The warm, bright light emanating from the now-broken balcony door only lit up what Quistis didn't want to see. A chaos that had thrown living (_now dead, dead, they're all dead_) bodies around like it had everything else, like rag dolls on operating tables, like sandbags in trenches...

_Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!_

Quistis whimpers in hushed resignation, unable to do anything else. She curls up as much as she can without hurting too much, and cries in silent despair. In her mind, a thought repeats that she isn't in the wreckage, she is the wreckage. She is the wreckage. She is the wreckage.

In the distance, she hears footsteps. Somebody's calling her name. She is sure that she's imagining it. Nobody will come, and even if they do...

It reminds her of a song, a military rhyme. She sobs at how fitting it is, to die here with this little line in her head...

_And when they come for me..._


	7. Sinking

"_**Ashes"**_

**6. Sinking**

Squall felt his nausea turn into a downhill slide towards inevitably puking his guts out, but tried to do his best not to let it get to him. He was high up on the elevator shaft, and starting to throw up while he was hanging from a ladder ran the risk of his grip slipping. His head was on the verge of spinning, and his legs felt like they could give out any second.

_I wasn't hurt, I just crashed through a railing, nothing major... what the fuck is this, I don't even..._

He decided that his body's condition was a problem for another time. Later, if he had a chance to break down.

When Squall made it to the door leading to the navigation section, he breathed a sigh of relief. The doors were open. He simply got up to the ledge and took two steps in before collapsing. His stomach rose, and he retched, feeling bile rise, but not enough to actually throw up.

He saw that the inner controls of the doors had been yanked out. Nida had managed to trip the doors. Good.

Clenching his teeth, he pushed the ground and stumbled his way through the long hallway leading to the renovated bridge. His mind dwelled on how insisting on moving the bridge down and forward during the Estharian retrofit job a year ago might not have been such a good idea after all. The hallway seemed endless, and then, it was abruptly cut.

There was a gap in the hallway. There was only the edge of a girder standing on the side of the other end, and his end just ended in what could easily be a tough fall. Not deadly, not by any measure, but tough and impossible to climb out of. Also, the rebars that were jutting out of the ground below didn't look too friendly.

Squall stood there, trying to keep his stomach down, and figured if he had about ten feet's worth of a start, he could make the jump, and he had a lot of hallway behind him. He backed up, all the while keeping in mind the last three steps he had to leap to take the final jump. When he finally thought he was a good distance to his target, he took a deep breath, spat, and broke into the run. He leapt once, twice and on the third, threw himself across the space, his mind only on his landing.

He fell short.

The girder's length slammed into his side as he missed his mark and his left hand ended up sliding down a cool surface. Squall barely had time to shift his weight before all that was holding him up was his right hand. He quickly reached into one of the gaps in the bottom of the hallway and held on. He dangled there for a moment, trying to find a way to move to the girder completely. Panting, he managed to pull himself up, one hand still clutching at the girder. He pushed the gap his left hand was in, shifted his body around and his fingers came grasping at the other side of the girder. Once both hands were on, he pulled his upper body to it, spun around on his stomach and then, careful not to go off-balance, shifted himself to his knees.

The girder groaned under the weight. Squall quickly got to one knee and then to both feet, and leapt to the hallway as the girder broke the masonry around it and fell down.

Now, to get to Nida, all he had to do was to walk down the hallway.

Squall found the double doors of the bridge open. He moved forward and his feet got caught up in something. He fell head-first, slammed down onto the ground.

There was a time-skip for him, because the next thing he knew, he was sitting up, with a concerned Nida gently shaking him.

"General... hey..."

Bile rose in his stomach, and Squall couldn't keep it down. He barely turned his head before vomiting full-force. He sat there, dry heaving, every breath pounding in his head. His only clear thought was a repeat of Nida's earlier comment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what he had tripped over. The corpse of the co-pilot, Jan.

With a shaking hand, Squall grabbed Nida by the collar. The cloth felt good in his closed fist.

"What..." he said, trying to draw enough breath to speak, "What is it?"

"General, you..."

"What is it? What's the problem? Help me up."

Nida helped Squall to his feet and he managed to stand. His stomach was worse than it was before. He could barely see straight through the drilling ache.

He stumbled forward as Nida took him to one of the consoles. The thick glass hadn't broken, but it had cracked at some places.

"This is the status console." Nida said.

"I know what it is, Nida."

"See that?" Nida pointed at a gauge, "That's the power."

"It's... we have power loss, we..." he coughed, something was stuck in his throat, "We lost all main power..."

"We lost two auxiliary units too." Nida said, pointing at two of the three smaller gauges underneath the first, "This one survived. Now, look at this."

He pointed directly at the centerpoint of a spidering crack.

"This is where the display for our engine power would be. Thank Hyne, there is a gauge for that as well."

Squall blinked a few times.

"We're floating at 70% capacity!?"

"No. We're moving at 70% capacity, which, in about ten minutes, will be 40%. The floaters," he pointed to a gauge nearby, ", are down to 57%, but they were only at 80% normally, and it has its own aux unit, so..."

"Bottom line this." Squall said.

"We're sinking. Slowly, but we're sinking."

Squall couldn't feel it sink in for a few moments. The thought finally embedded itself into his mind somewhere down the line, and he could comprehend what it meant. The thought then expanded into its connotations, but Squall stopped himself short. One worry at a time. One thousand worries at a time.

"We need to make it to land." Nida said.

"Galbadia is out of the question." Squall said, "I am not going there."

"...it's probably too far anyway." Nida sighed, "Our best bet is Esthar."

"Where are we now?"

"Near Centra."

"For one thing," Squall said, "Esthar only has the one port and no equipment to dock or house us if we're not floating at full capacity. Our only option is Fisherman's Horizon. Can we get there?"

"Honestly, I don't know." Nida ran a hand through his hair, "At this rate, we'll be underwater before we make it halfway, I mean, the engines are slowly burning out the aux power..."

"Bullet..." Squall said.

"What?"

"Aim the garden at the FH dock as well as you can, then burn out the thruster aux power completely, that should give us enough speed to make it there."

"Good idea... except it might not work..."

"Whatever. I'm not thinking about that. I can't afford to. Can you do it?"

Nida considered it.

"It'll take a little security override, but-"

Squall felt for the chain that was usually around his neck and thanked Hyne and everything holy that it was still in place. He handed the chain, and the keys dangling form it, to Nida.

"This'll do." Nida said, "Which leaves one problem."

_I just want to sleep._

"Yeah?"

"How are we going to let them know we're coming? Communications are down, too."

"I'll figure something out, just-j-just," he swallowed hard, "Just get this thing going. That's a-an order."

"Yes, sir!"

Squall dragged himself as fast as he could out of the room and back into his half of the hallway. His feet were refusing to follow a straight line, always straying slightly until he was dragging himself along, shoulder to the wall. There was a sharp, bitter taste at the back of his throat and his head, he was sure, had just split open and burst and was still tender from the splitting open part.

"Squall!"

Squall looked up ahead. Selphie was on the other side of the gap. Something poured out of him, something pure and dense, full of feeling.

_She's safe..._

Squall's body slumped against the wall and all went black.

Squall woke up to the familiar scent of strawberries and sweat. Was it a not-so-quiet night in or a not-so-quiet night out? He opened his eyes to Selphie's worried face.

"Squall... thank Hyne... you're hurt."

"I'm glad you're alright."

"I am. You're not."

"Whatever. Help me stand."

Selphie helped him sit up, and then, to stand. Squall felt his entire body protest this basic movement. Still, he was standing; it was something.

"We gotta..." he said, "We gotta get down. Don't know what happened down there, I don't. I don't."

"Squall, you're not... you..." Selphie sighed through clenched teeth, "You have a headache, yeah?"

"What's that got to-"

"Headache? Nausea? Did you throw up?"

"Once."

"Loss of consciousness? Before this, before I found you?"

"Just for a second."

"You can't keep running around like this, we-"

"I have to..." something in him refused to acknowledge what he was thinking, "_Someone_ attacked our home. _My_ home. I'll rest after I've made sure we're safe, and then I'll rest when they've paid."

"You're going to kill yourself at this rate."

"Then I'll rest when I'm dead."

"Don't say that!"

Green eyes, big, full of sadness and urgent despair. Squall almost closed his eyes... almost.

"I'll be alright." He said, softly, "I have you to watch over me."

Selphie smiled and sighed.

"How did you cross that gap?" Squall asked.

"Float. Which is how we're gonna get back."

"How were things on ground level main?"

"Seifer's handling it."


	8. Body

"_**Ashes"**_

**7. Body**

Seifer knew that he had lost his mind the moment he had stepped into the infirmary. He would later remember that time as a blank, no memory at all of the sight that he had seen, and part of him would think that acceptable.

But he wouldn't forget the whimpering, the constant, mewling repeat of an incantation, interrupted by sobs. _And when they come for me, they'll find me gone. And when they come for me, they'll find me gone. And when they come for me, they'll find me gone. And when they come for me, they'll find me gone._

The body lying, curled up in the scorched debris looked like it could be anything... from six feet away, where he was standing, all Seifer could see was everything he loved, broken, twisted into shapes it shouldn'tve bent towards, burned and only barely alive, constantly repeating the mantra like a broken record.

"Holy Hyne and Vascaroon, Quistis!? _Quistis!"_

Seifer got down to his knees beside her, reached out and touched her shoulder. Quistis shrieked in pain, her voice broke even as she was screaming, she shirked from him, shrunk more into the ball she had curled into and laid there, trembling.

Seifer kept his touch. He wasn't sure where he could touch her, wasn't sure where he could touch her and not send her screaming in pain. Everywhere he looked, there seemed to be a wound, a laceration, a piece of metal stuck in skin, and through her cover, he could see her arm... great Hyne, her leg... was that...

Seifer turned away, crawled two steps, retched and threw up. It felt to him that he would puke until there was nothing left inside him that could actually process and accept what he had just seen.

Trying to catch his breath, he shouted.

"_Medic! Get a medic in here!"_

Seifer watched, helpless, as the field medic tended to Quistis' broken body as best as he could. The pale blue glow of the Cura spells came and went at irregular intervals, each one taking away a little more of his hope as the number of times it was cast quickly went up.

He felt useless. Absolutely useless. All he could do was sit there, his mind repeating what he had seen, what he was seeing, and the military rhyme in his head.

_And when they come for me, they'll find me gone_

_And when they speak, I'll hold my tongue_

_And when they ask me, I won't answer_

_And when they take me, it won't matter_


	9. Becalmed

"_**Ashes (Prelude)"**_

**8. Becalmed**

Squall followed Selphie down the elevator shaft and into the elevator. Once they were back on ground level main, he took a breather. No matter what was happening, no matter what had happened, he had to stand on his own two feet and appear to be strong. He could fall, if the fall was internal and showed nothing to the others. It wouldn't matter then.

Selphie took his arm and held him. Her presence calmed him, strengthened him. It instilled a strange thought in him: that they would make it through this, and everything would be fine.

"Come on, let's-"

They both saw cadets and the occasional SeeD moving in the same direction.

Brea emerged from the elevator and wiped the sweat on her brow with the back of her hand. Having made the climb up and down once more had taken a lot out of her. She saw her General and Lieutenant General Tilmitt standing there. She came over and announced her presence with a salute.

"Are you alright, sir?" she asked Squall.

"Better than can be expected." Squall said, "How's Xu?"

"A medic is with her right now, sir. He told me that she could easily hold out until we can get her to the Infirmary."

"Where are they going?" Squall asked, pointing at the few that were walking in the same direction.

"Looks like the path to the Infirmary has just been cleared, sir."

"Let's go."

Brea, too afraid to presume she could do that, simply walked by Squall's side while Selphie had his arm. They walked at Squall's pace, which, Selphie found, was irregular, often with one foot dragging and making him miss the step. She supported him as much as she can, and is aware of the fact that sometimes, he leaned forward before pulling back, as if he was about to fall, but reeled himself in at the last second.

A crowd had gathered on the edge of the Infirmary. Some, Squall saw, were injured cadets who had makeshift bandages over their wounds, made from their clothes, their ties. His brow creased. Why wasn't anybody going in?

"Step aside, please." Brea said, elbowing her way through to clear it for Squall and Selphie. They slid by the crowd and got to the entrance.

Squall just stopped. Selphie took one step further and she, too, stopped. Brea, by their side, was simply standing there, staring onto the scene. The hallway leading into the infirmary had been scorched black, the debris cleaned up by the appointed squad cluttered it along both sides. The double doors were gone, reduced to bent pieces of metal. Through it, the inside of the Infirmary could be seen and...

Black. Scorched black. Ashes. Nothing but ashes, and the defiant SeeD Cross looked like it was floating there, nailed to the wall.

"S-Seifer said..." Selphie stuttered, "Th-tha-that Quistis would be..."

"Move!" Squall brushed past her, followed by Brea. Selphie sprinted after them.

"Quistis!" Squall shouted, only to encounter two field medics, one, he remembered, was a junior.

"Stand back, sir! Please! Nobody should get in here, stand..."

Brea made a small whimpering sound and cupped both hands over her mouth. Selphie held back only by Squall's arm, simply froze there. Squall could feel his headache become just a mild annoyance in the hurricane of thoughts screaming at him. Three medics were already doing what they had been trained to do, and they were right to do so, but the damage... the damage seemed, to him, worse, much worse...

A question came to mind.

"How did she survive?"

"We don't know, sir." The junior level medic said, "We couldn't find anybody else, just... fragments."

"Protect."

Squall, Selphie and Brea turned and saw Seifer, hugging his knees on the corner.

"Wh-what?" Selphie could manage.

"Her... right hand is... is..." Seifer swallowed, "It's burnt. But the rest of her body is... isn't so... the casting hand she... casts with her right hand. I don't..."

Squall's stomach lurched and he barely kept his teeth clenched. The stench of burnt flesh was thick in the air. He staggered back, pulling Selphie along, and took two steps before throwing up all that he had left from the bridge. Selphie steadied him as he breathed, his eyes turning in their sockets. Black infested his vision, just for a second, and then he managed to steady himself.

"Squall, you need to-"

"Not now," Squall said.

"Sir, are you alright..?"

"I'm fine Brea, just... we have to..."

The thin screech of feedback made them all cringe. The speakers, those still functional, came to life with Nida's voice.

"_Finally, this fucking thing works! Thank fuck for that... Ahem, everyone, listen to me - all of you, hold onto something. I'm going to give the Garden a big push, and it's going to shake you all - I don't want any unnecessary injuries. You have about a minute to get into position. Nida, out."_

Seifer reached out, and gently draped himself over Quistis. He whispered in her ear, again and again, that he was here.

Selphie and Brea helped Squall back to the elevator shaft. As he had guessed, nobody else had thought to go there - few ever thought to seek refuge in what was essentially a mostly-sealed box. On their way, they saw couples and trios hugging benches, holding onto the still-intact railing, onto chunks of stone... some had even decided not to hold onto anything, but to simply sit out in the open.

When they got to the elevator, Selphie went in. Brea opted to stand guard in front of it, in case anybody tried to get in at the last minute. Squall missed his step coming in, and ended up being slowly lowered to the ground by Selphie. She cradled him on her lap, gently holding him.

"I'm... I didn't do anything... but I'm tired..." Squall said, "But there's something else... FH bridge, they... they need to know we're coming... we have no communications..."

"Shhh..." Selphie said, "I'll take care of everything. And Brea's watching over us."

"I just... wake me up if I fall asleep. I don't..."

Nida's voice

"_Here it comes, people!"_

Selphie held Squall tightly, and Squall's eyes closed. As every sound started to come from further and further away, he heard Selphie's voice, whispering a prayer.

_Please, Hyne, please..._


	10. Gliding

"_**Ashes"**_

**9. Gliding**

Ocean Garden groaned, its surfaces vibrating as the thrusters located below fired at full force. The Garden slouched forwards at first, the impact of the sudden thrust driving it lower, but it quickly lurched up and began to move towards. The cadets and SeeD all held on the best they could, some slipped, but they held on however they could.

In the Infirmary, Seifer kept muttering apologies to a writhing Quistis. He was sorry, he was so sorry that he was hurting her, that he was causing her more pain by holding her. His words were laced with the tears he felt pouring out, and he was sorry, he was so sorry.

In the elevator, Selphie was cradling an unconscious Squall as an ever-watchful Brea stood her ground, despite the sudden shifts in the Garden's balance. Selphie gently rocked Squall back and forth, cringing at his head wound. She unraveled the tie he had wrapped around his hand and found small glass shards in the cuts, forgotten or missed. She picked them out, one by one, feeling as if each shard removed healed him more.

Brea, with her back turned to both her General and her Lieutenant General, tried to stand her ground, feeling that if she were to fall, she wouldn't have the strength to stand back up. Her General's word had given her the mission she was clinging to now, and her feverish mind was stuck on her pride. She felt proud that she was now the General's aide. That was what she was, that was who she was, and the General's aide had to stand strong. This thought was the only thing keeping her in one piece.

Nida, manning his post, held onto the giant navigation bar with all he had, trying to keep it straight. It seemed to vibrate from below, which was making it hard for him to keep an exact heading, and he had to. Everything was riding on him making the bullet find a target in the FH Maintenance Docks. The broken observation windows allowed for the breeze to come rushing through, and he could barely see straight if he looked up ahead. His last message to Xu had been for her to find a way to announce their arrival.

Xu, held together by a few Cura spells and field dressing, was jerked around like a rag doll by the ground underneath her shifting. She held in her lap an amplified bullhorn; a battery-operated device designed specifically to hold the yield of most of the inner-garden speakers combined. As she held on, the corpses of her fellow SeeDs and cadets were thrown off their chairs and onto the ground, their limbs contorting in ways that made her look away. The medic, still with her, talked to her, and she listened. She watched him talk his pressure away, telling her stories of Dr. Kodowaki and her insistence that magic could only help patch up wounds, not, as she used to say, magically make them disappear. Xu wished they would.

At the end of the big push, Ocean Garden found its balance and started to glide, moving towards Fisherman's Horizon with the survivors on board.

Xu didn't know how long it had been since the motion forward when Nida's voice broke through the static of her little transceiver.

"_I can see the bridge! Better let them know!"_

Xu held out a hand to her medic.

"You can't get up yet," the medic said, "Your wounds, you'll bleed..."

"Help me bleed, then." Xu said.


	11. Survivors

"_**Ashes"**_

**10. Survivors**

"_Fisherman's Horizon! Our engines and floaters are down! We need your assistance docking the Garden! You are all we've got, please, help us!"_

Squall woke up with a start, his entire body sprang and he stood up, much too fast. A sharp, blinding pain entered his head and war drums started to pound on his temples. He took a moment to gather his senses. Selphie's hand brushed up against his cheek and turned his head. He saw the unmistakable look of concern in those bright green eyes – the same look he used to see back when he chased the bottle.

"I'm better." He said, "I'm okay."

"You're still hurt." Selphie said, "But the good news is, we're almost to Fisherman's Horizon. That was Xu's shout-out to them that woke you up."

"Sir?"

Squall saw Brea standing there, hands held behind her back, looking almost expectant.

"Brea? You're still here?"

"Of course, sir." Brea said.

"She's a keeper." Selphie said with a smile.

"Where are we? What did I miss?"

"We're about to dock with FH Bridge, sir." Brea said, "Nothing else happened."

"We need to get to the balcony." Squall said, "The connection point. People will be flocking there... we have to get off before them... we have to limit them. Keep them close. We can't stay in FH for long. We can't stay."

"Why not!?" Selphie asked, "We're not in any condition to go anywhere."

"Because they must never know that we made it. It must be as if there were no survivors – we can't risk somebody carrying the news of our survival. Brea."

"Yes, sir."

"Spread the word. Tell whoever you see that they will be given a shore leave in FH. One hour, and one hour only. Those who don't make it back in an hour will be facing the Garden Court once we're out of this... and we will leave them behind for the time being."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and, Brea?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you."

"Yes, sir."

Brea sprinted away. Squall rubbed his temples. The headache still wasn't gone. Sleeping had given him a bit of energy, but it also reminded him that it was too little... more rest, he needed more, and it wasn't an option now.

"We need to get to the dock exit." Squall said, "I need to get off as soon as possible."

"Squall, hey," Selphie cupped his cheeks with both hands and forced him to look her in the eye, "Slow down. You're going a thousand miles a minute."

"I can't..." Squall said, "Not yet."

Selphie couldn't help but smile bitterly.

"You've got that look again." Selphie said, "I'll bite. Who are you gonna call?"

"My father."

Selphie didn't say anything.

Squall and Selphie went through the continuous scenery of devastation, and witnessed the survivors waiting, some eagerly, some wearily, and some simply because they had nothing else, for them to make it to the dock exit, to connect with land, to gain some grounding. Those cradling their injured, loved ones were reciting familiar words from their private languages, whispering assurances and not believing a word of it.

Selphie followed Squall up the elevator shaft, up the ladder and onto the second floor. The doors, mercifully, had been left open, and they slid right in. Once they were in the hallway to the classrooms, they encountered cadets and SeeD that had stayed where they were simply because they hadn't known what else to do. Squall stopped to get their designated specialties, sent the field medics down, and ordered the rest to stay put.

The dock exit was simply the changed balcony – its mid section was a bit lower than the sides, and it had a four-step climb to where the ramp to the Fisherman's Horizon docks would fit. From where they were standing, they could see the ramp, a piece of metal extending from the rest of the immense docking station they had fitted for the garden, moving towards them.

Selphie interlocked her fingers with Squall's. He gently squeezed her hand, and told her more than he could with words. She saw him standing next to her, with all his strength, desperately trying not to fall, and she thought of Quistis. That reminded her.

"Seifer was rather helpful." Selphie said.

"Was he?"

"He kept a level head. Mostly."

Selphie felt Squall's grip grow tighter, rougher.

"I won't let it stand." He said, "I won't have it. They'll pay for this."

And the survivors formed an orderly, somber line on the ramp and marched, one after the other, to Fisherman's Horizon, heads low and thoughts in knots. Brea had told everyone, it seemed, because the line of cadets and SeeDs marching out seemed endless to Squall and Selphie. They dispersed, spreading from the docks on out, looking for something to help them cope, or looking for nothing at all.

Their home, abandoned with their absence, was a wreck, and so were they.

When Brea joined Selphie and Squall, they, too, marched in a single file down the ramp. Squall moved them through the docks, through the smell of rust, metal, salt water and fish, towards the scent of cheap liquor and Triple Triad. Flanked on both sides with places that were dead this time of day, they moved through the streets until they found a payphone. Squall went into the booth while Brea and Selphie stood aside.

A moment's silence prompted Selphie to speak.

"He won't admit it, but he sometimes needs help, like all of us do."

"Sir?"

"Thank you, Brea." Selphie said, "For sticking with him. Especially when you could have gone either way."

"Either way, sir?"

"You could've said, fuck it, what does the chain of command mean at a time like this? But you chose to stick to it."

"Permission to be honest, sir?"

"Granted."

"It's the only thing that keeping me from losing my mind. I'm Trabian. I was there during the Trabian Atrocity. I lost... people that were precious to me on that day."

Selphie bit her tongue.

"Being here, today, feels like a bad nightmare came to haunt me during the day." Brea said, "And it would have locked me out of everything until it passed, but then... he came. He moved me through it all, gave me something to do. Took away my helplessness. That's why I'm sticking with him."

Squall slid his credit card into the phone's slot and dialed the number. His hands were starting to shake. He leaned against the booth and tried to support himself. He wasn't going to last very long. Being halfway out of the woods was getting to him, the incident was finally going to break him down, and this time, he didn't think anybody would catch him.

"_Esthar Presidential Palace, this is El speaki-"_

"This is General Leonhart. Secure the line and patch me through to the president."

"_Y-yes, sir! Er, just a moment..."_

Squall tapped on the phone with shaking fingers, keeping time. Twenty seconds for the line to be secured. Another fifteen for it to be routed to the secure phone, the red one on Laguna's desk. Two rings, three seconds each and...

"_Hello? Squall?"_

Squall took a deep breath.

"Father..."

"_...what happened? What happened?"_

"We were attacked. We need help. The Garden's crippled. How soon can you send medics with proper equipment, technicians to help get the garden to at least a manageable state?"

"_Where are you?"_

"Fisherman's Horizon. We can't stay for long. I don't want anyone to know we made it."

"_Let me_ ask..." brief pause,_ "__Kiros says they can be there within the hour."_

"I need another favor."

"_Hyne's sakes, f__orget favors. Just ask, Squall. If I can, I will."_

"We need to move and conceal the Garden. It must be as if the Garden was destroyed."

"_After the technicians take care of whatever problems you have, we can move it to Tear's Point. Our cloaking should shield the Garden, and since nobody hardly ever goes there, you'd be away from prying eyes."_

"Quistis is badly injured... putting it fucking mildly. She needs you. I need you."

"_Anything you need."_

"Thank you..." Squall could feel all energy draining from his limbs, "One last thing. If anyone asks, and somebody will ask, whatever they'll tell you, please make it like it's news to you. You can't know what happened, outside of what they'll say."

"_I _did_ write the chapter on diplomacy in your _Biblis Tactica, _son."_

"Yeah... thank you."

"_Glad if I can help. Who did this?"_

"Not over the phone."

"_Very well. I'll see you in a couple of hours."_

"See you."

Squall hung up.

Squall got out of the booth, dragging his feet, and found Selphie and Brea waiting for him. He smiled, and his next step took everything he had. He fell to his knees, and trying to stay in one piece, fell to his side and everything went black.

One thought flared in the pitch-black.

_I'm done._


	12. Epilogue (Veterans)

"_**Ashes"**_

**Epilogue**

**(Veterans.)**

Squall opened his eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling, to the smell of linoleum and antiseptic. His head felt heavy, and he could feel bandages around it. He tried to sit up. His entire body seemed to be restrained with invisible straps and his head seemed to be lagging a few inches behind.

"Thank Hyne."

Squall turned to see Selphie sitting in an armchair next to his bed. She was in her uniform, and her hair was a mess. Circles under her eyes told him that she hadn't seen a good night's sleep in a while.

"Well hello." Selphie said, rubbing her eyes, "Welcome back, handsome."

"How long was I out?"

"Two days now. You faded in and out a lot, but you probably don't remember..." She said, yawning, "You're in Esthar General. We all are."

"What..." getting to his feet didn't appear to be an option, "What happened?"

"The Garden's anchored to Tear's Point. I think they're still handling repairs, I haven't heard anything since they pulled us in. In the mean, most of the cadets and SeeDs who aren't injured are in hotels."

"Quistis? How is Quistis?"

"She's in ICU. She'll live, but recovery... that's a whole different story, and I'm not sure I like the ending. It's bad, Squall."

"I wish..."

"None of that, darling."

"You look tired."

"Yeah, no shit." Selphie said, managing a weak smile, "Between waiting for your lazy butt to wake up and co-managing the situation with Brea, I'm running mostly on oil-slick Estharian coffee, which, I'll have you know, has one wicked comedown."

"Brea..?"

"Your appointed instrument." Selphie said, "She's a great improviser. She handled most of it, I just did the official work."

"Most random choice I ever made." Squall said, "A shot in the dark."

"That'll get you far."

"I suppose..."

Selphie sighed.

"Word is, or so she tells me, they are all waiting for you to come out. You know, play the General. Say something, do something."

Squall frowned. He had a few ideas as to what he could do, but all of them ended in the inevitable, in what he knew he must do. He threw off the covers and got to his feet. His legs were shaky, his balance unstable, but he could force it. He could walk, if only with Selphie's support.

"Where to?" Selphie asked.

"Is my uniform here?"

"Yeah... well, I've been sitting on it, but, it's here."

Squall slowly put on his uniform. Every piece of clothing that he pulled on, every layer of fabric revived more of the identity he was trying to reach – that of General Leonhart. Cold, calculated, master tactician, veteran of the Second Sorceress War. Leader of SeeD, specialist mercenaries, child soldiers picked up and trained to defeat the sorceress, any sorceress.

When he finished getting dressed, Selphie smiled.

"Y'know... that uniform's very flattering."

"You can talk."

"Oh come on. I'm disgusting right now."

"You're beautiful."

Selphie couldn't help but smile.

"So, General, where're we going?"

"To visit Quistis, first. After that, we'll visit the veterans."

Selphie raised an eyebrow.

"Quistis and Xu are the only-"

"Not anymore."

Squall ran his hand through Selphie's hair, and caressed her cheek. Selphie was almost afraid – the expression on his face...

"This was the opening act." Squall said, "And I wish it hadn't come to this, but it has. I had my part to play in all this..."

Selphie took his hand and squeezed assuredly.

"It wasn't your fault. You couldn'tve known."

"Maybe. But there's one thing I do know for certain, we are at war. And the people in this hospital, our people, are all veterans now."

Selphie took Squall's arm, appearances be damned.

"Let's go, then, General." She said.

Squall let her lead him.


	13. Resorting to War (Afterpiece)

"_**Ashes"**_

**Resorting to War.**

**(Afterpiece)**

There was only the muffled hissing sound of her breathing and the regular bleeping of the machines hooked up to her bed. Healing, but still fragile and now asleep, she looked so small and vulnerable... so unlike her, so unlike the Quistis he used to know. She was half-Quistis, half-machine now: her right arm was encased in a cast, its faint purplish glow pulsing, indicating that it was healing. Her right leg, now an assortment of flesh and thin, metal strips, looks too broken to heal.

Silently witnessing from behind the glass separating the hallway from her ICU chamber, Squall couldn't help but feel at a loss of what to do.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and sighed. It had been four days since he had woken up to Selphie watching over him, and most if it, he had spent in the Central Hospital, making rounds to wounded cadets, assuring those grieving the loss of their loved ones, visiting Xu... and every day, he ended with this silent vigil by her room.

The doctors' assurances that she would heal rang hollow to him every time he came to see her. The outlook was good, they had said, she was healing well. But every time Squall thought about this fact, he couldn't help but view it in light of all the other things Quistis would never do. She would never be able to walk without a crutch or a cane. Her right hand, still that black, closed fist, was unlikely to open again. If it ever did let her fingers loose, she wouldn't be able to use them. She wasn't likely to have full feeling in her right arm again. There'd be some scarring on her face, mostly on her cheeks. A shard of glass, from her glasses, had grazed her left eye, and she would lose some of her sight.

_I will make her pay. For everything. For you. Forget everything else, I'll make her pay for what she's done to you._

Someone came to his side, and crossed his arms. Squall took a sideways glance. It was Seifer, standing there in his SeeD uniform. On the other days, Squall had left when he had come. It had almost been as if he had passed the duty of watching over Quistis to him, but his uniform, what he had earned through his loss... it prompted him to stay, to speak.

"The uniform suits you well." Squall said.

"Quistis always said it was my color."

"Is it yours?"

"Selphie found it in Quistis' locker. My field test would have been three days from now."

"You've earned it."

"I wish I didn't. Not with this price. It's not worth it. I came to understand that it isn't worth it."

"You didn't earn it through her loss." Squall said, "That's not why you're SeeD."

"And why am I SeeD now?"

Squall sighed.

"I don't like you." He said, "I'm not sure if I can. You and me, we... always had this, whatever this was between us... it will continue to be there. But I have to recognize one thing, above all others, and it is that you genuinely care for Quistis."

"I love her."

"I know." Squall said, "As do I. Through that, I can see who you can be, rather than who you are and maybe always will be for me. I'm willing to accept that there's more to you than what my judgment says."

Seifer didn't quite know what to say. A thought occurred to him.

"Do you know who did this to us..? To her?"

Squall sighed and smiled.

"Who else..?"

"Rinoa."

Squall shook his head.

"I guess I just didn't want to believe she was so far gone that she would actually go through with something like this."

"She would."

"Yeah," Squall said, looking at Seifer, "She would. And I should've known."

"Not your fault."

"Isn't it?"

Seifer smiled.

"Thing about Rinoa," Seifer said, "You never know what she'll do. She's impulsive, and none of her decisions involve anything but herself. What she wants, what she thinks she needs... I know you two were... deep, but you couldn't even remotely begin to make her do anything. Sorry."

"Whatever."

Seifer almost smiled. The sight of the woman he loved lying in healing stasis stopped him.

"So..." he said, "What does the great General Leonhart have in mind for our little Sorceress?"

Squall felt a small pang of guilt at the hissing snarl at the end of his sentence. Seifer's anger was clear in his eyes. Squall was sure that if he wasn't so numb, he'd feel the same thing.

"The only thing he's good for." Squall said, "Resorting to war."


End file.
